The Impossible Possibilities in the Life of a Psychotic Adolescent
by Etimire T
Summary: Four psychiatrists and twelve years after arriving onto a stranger's doorstep, John Smith has been diagnosed with multiple-personality disorders, psychosis and schizophrenia. However, Vastra believes John is much more than he seems and offers him a place in her prestigious and mysterious school for unusual and talented adolescents. (mutants/superpowers AU)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A New Adventure

"Don't worry, John." The woman's eyes betrayed her motherly hypocrisy as she held his face in her hands.

A stray wind brought to their ears the sound of the people beyond the gate. John ignored their shouts and spout of laughter, wanting to crystallize this moment in his mind.

At the road, a black cab waited for the woman to finish her goodbyes and John could feel blackish-purple impatience radiating off the cabby.

The woman was blue and grey like a rainstorm.

He quickly shook the vision away. His psychiatrist insisted emotions weren't a color. They were not visible.

John wanted for just a moment to feel at least slightly normal, so he blinked away the color and focused on the woman's words.

"They'll take good care of you." His would-be mother murmured, now holding him at arm's length, "They can help you. You belong here."

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself instead of him.

"It's alright, Sara Jane." John smiled sadly. "I know. I know this is for the best."  
_Even if I'm terrified_.

But he needed to reassure the woman who took him in all those years ago.

He remembered being quite young, standing in bare feet and shivering in the fog. Staring up at the door knocker, three year old John could never hope to reach it. Instead he laid down on the welcome mat, totally exhausted, and fell asleep.

John was aware that back then, he knew why he was at the doorstep and what had brought him there, but John could no longer recall these facts.

He didn't know what exactly he expected would happen when someone finally opened the door, but he had not expected a youngish looking journalist to bust out and nearly trip over him. She bent down quickly and ran a soft hand across his cheek. "Poor thing," she murmured, "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

The boy blinked but otherwise made no answer.

Cocking her head to the side, the young woman gave John a small smile, "I'm Sara, what's your name?"

Now there was a question John would like to know the answer to. Who was he before he was John Smith?

But we don't always get what we want.

John was ripped from the memory by Sara's sigh. She turned away in embarrassment, laughing without humor.

A single tear fell down her pale face, causing John's breath seized within him, and he almost gave in. Why are goodbyes so hard?

He needed to be strong, not just for himself, but for his adopted mother.

A small smile flitted across his lips before quickly fleeing. "A tear, Sara Jane?"

His mother sniffed and buried her head in his chest. It was strange, finally being taller than her, to have her ear on his chest instead of the other way around.

"EXCUSE ME, LADY!" Came a coarse cry, "I've got places to be, if you don't mind!"

John rolled his eyes. What was with cabbies and rudeness?

Sara Jane Smith snorted indignantly and drew away from her adopted son. Heat rose to her cheeks and John almost felt sorry for the receiver of such wrath.

"EXCUSE YOURSELF!" Sara shouted, strutting back to the cab, "Who do you think you are?"

The cabby started the car and ignored her.

_Oh, clever_. John thought, realizing what the cabby was doing. He took back the nasty opinion he'd begun to develop of him. _Good man, making goodbye easier_...

John almost smiled. "I best be going, Sara. But I'll see you this Christmas, okay?"

Sara withdrew from her ranting to give him one last, lingering look.

_'__Such a brave boy…'_

John let go of an inner sigh, of all the times to hear voices...

Nodding shakily, it was obvious Sara was trying to be strong for John. Sara got in the car, closed the door, and rolled down the window.

John didn't move from his position in front of the imposing gates.

"Now John," Sara called, "You take your medicine and do exactly what the teachers tell you, alright?"

John gave a mock solute, "Of course, Mom."

It had been a while since he called her that, and John could see it hit a cord within Sara Jane.  
She smiled tearfully, clearing her throat for one last instruction. "And you call me on the weekends. EVERY weekend, do you hear me, John?"

John smiled, "Loud and clear." He took a step toward the gate, hands stretched sideways. "See ya around, Sara Jane Smith."

It was his personal conviction to never _actually_ say goodbye. He left with the impression he would see her shortly.

Whether this was to lessen Sara's pain or his own, John wasn't sure.

The cab pulled away, golden leaves crackling under the wheels. Then John Smith was left alone in front of the imposing gate. It was metal, quite old, and incredibly large. Frowning uncertainly, John clutched the strap of his blue backpack tighter. He leaned in to look between the bars, but found his vision blurred. The image beyond the gate wobbled and melted in and out of focus. The effect reminded John of a heat wave.

Was his 'condition' acting up again? John honestly didn't know. He'd never seen stuff like this before. His hallucinations usually consisted of much stranger images...

To the right, on an inconspicuous bronze sign was written, **SUATA- School for Unusual and Talented Adolescents**.

Well… John was in the right place… Although he wasn't sure about the 'talented' part.

He began to wonder how on Earth he was going to get in when a small door to his left opened up.

Blinking, John stared at the opening in the wall stupidly.

"You comin', kid?"

John jumped, startled by the gruff voice from within the doorway. "I-"

"You John Smith?" The voice interrupted.

Gulping, John nodded quickly. "Yeah- that's me." John Smith- a schizophrenic and psychotic mess, according to four psychiatrists, who had basically concluded that John was off his knocker.

The fact that he was singled out for this mysterious school was a miracle in of itself. No one really knew what happened within its walls, but the kids all came out successful, educated, and happy, so it had a good, if clandestine reputation.

Why was he chosen as a student, and why in the middle of the school year? John had no idea.

They told Sara Jane they could help him, and she believed it.

"Don't just stand there, kid." A chubby hand snaked out and pulled him into a tiny office of some sort. "Just let me do a thumbprint test-" the man mumbled, "There are a lot of people we are trying to protect in here, so I have to make sure you are who you say you are."

The man pressed John's thump against a thin sheet of metal for a moment. It beeped and flashed green, which John took to be a good thing.

However, at the moment, John was too stunned to do anything but gape. "You're- you're-"

The obese man rolled his eyes, muttering something obscene under his breath.

Meanwhile, John finally found his voice, "You're BLUE!" He gasped, blinking rapidly. Was this another hallucination? It had to be.

_But my hallucinations never look like this…_

The blue-skinned man was dressed in clothing similar to a school janitor. He gave him a sardonic glare before handing him a map of the school grounds. "Get used to it, Smith." The blue man said, "You'll see stranger things before you're finished here."

Laughing nervously, John let the man show him through the office and toward the school grounds. "Um, look- I don't-"

"Get out there, Smith. The principle will want to see you as soon as you can get to her office."

John felt like a fish with all the gulping he was doing. The blue man typed an access code into a plate next to the door, and it opened with a hiss.

Immediately, the blue man pushed John forward and shut the door again.  
Stumbling, John attempted to keep his feet from under the bombardment of noise and smells and emotions and people. John didn't understand why he hadn't seen all of this from outside the gate.

Blinking in the bright sun, John watched in bafflement and shock, the scene before him.  
A small boy ran across a pond, a girl sat on an invisible bench, and a teenager poured out a glass of water, presenting an icy rose. A man with two heads lumbered across the front lawn, and a glass doll tumbled across John's feet.

"Watch it!" The doll muttered, picking up her backpack and racing off.

Tuning in a large, unsteady circle, John's eyes nearly fell out of his head.  
_What _is_ this place?_

Suddenly he heard a voice call out above the rest. "Hey you! Lost?"

Spinning in surprise, John tripped over the untied shoelace of his red converse and toppled backwards into a shallow fountain.

"Oh my gosh!" The voice shouted, closer now. "I am _so_ sorry, are you- are you okay?" the voice paused, but didn't give John a chance to respond, "It's good you're not like my friend Laya. One drop of water and she melts- literally, like witch of the west- wizard of Oz. It's totally epic."

John coughed, shaking water from his gravity-resilient hair like a dog would. "Okay." He wasn't sure what else to say. "This is humiliating."

John finally got the water out of his eyes and saw the girl had stretched out a black-leather clad hand. "Here," she said, grasping his pale arm. She had a strong grip for such a small hand. It only took a moment for her to pull John upright.

It was only then that he got his first look at the girl. She wore black leggings and black boots that came up snugly to her knees. Gold zippers lined the dark jacket she wore.

Her blonde hair was cut harshly at her shoulders and a black streak ran through her bangs. Smokey eyes stared at him with embarrassment and a bit of amusement. She wore black lipstick and carried herself with a sort of 'off limits' attitude. No boy would ever have the guts to mess with this chick. Despite this, John couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was.

John realized he'd need staring for just a bit too long and felt his cheeks heat up. _Bloody hormones. Not even fair…_

Coughing to cover his mistake, John blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Aren't you burning up in those clothes? It's like ninety degrees out here."

It was a rare warm day that autumn.

The girl shrugged, "I'd ask the same of you, ya know, if you weren't just dumped in the fountain."

John looked down at his clothes and realized she was right. He wore nicer clothes than he usually did, a dress shirt, tie, dress pants, and a trench coat because Sara was paranoid.

John shrugged, a small smirk resting in the curve of his mouth, "Suppose you're right." He said, wringing the tail end of the brown outer garment. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the tattered remains of the school map. Groaning inwardly, he wadded the paper up and stuck it in his pocket again.

John expected the girl to move on now, but she didn't, instead she leaned in and saw the useless map. "Oh that's a shame," she offered sincerely, "Are you a new student?"

John nodded in confirmation, "I'm supposed to meet the principle or something. Do you think-?"

"Oh sure!" The girl interrupted, "I'll show you the way." Her reluctant smile clashed with the tough-girl attitude she had going on. "I threw my map away before looking at it when I first came here- _Really_ bad decision. I ended up three days late for my first class."

"Three days?" John was incredulous. How big _was_ this place?

The girl nodded with complete seriousness, walking him to the front door of a massive mansion that was the main school building. They climbed up the steps, passing students studying on the stairs.

"It's bloody impossible to navigate at first. It's like the halls deliberately want you to go to the wrong place." The girl smile back at him, "I'm Rose, by the way."

John nodded, "John." he offered in return.

They walked in silence for moment before Rose bit her lip, thinking, "It's unusual for Vastra to bring in another student in the middle of the year." She said.

Principle Vastra- of course.

"Do you have any idea why she let you in right now?" Rose continued. Her question was relaxed, honestly curious.

John shrugged, his eyes bouncing from the basketball sized burnt holes in a sculpted hedge and the kid who was throwing the balls of fire. "Honestly?" John sighed, "I don't even know how I got accepted in a place like this- I don't know how any of this is possible!" He gestured vaguely at the hundred or so of impossible children and laughed without humor, "I didn't even apply!"

The girl gave him a strange look John couldn't interpret, "Well of course not," she chuckled, skipping the open doorway. "None of us apply. Vastra picks us individually."

_That's usual._ John thought.

He followed Rose, his converses squeaking on the tile floor. He left small puddles of water in his wake.

The ceiling rose high and domed above them. It depicted several painted scenes, some of peace and others of vicious battles. "Whoa." John breathed, head tilted back. He blinked, taking the sight in, and was too enthralled to notice the entrance of another person until John heard the man's voice.

"Stop immediately or you will be obliterated!" Came the quick command.

John froze and slowly swiveled around.

Rose stopped a few feet ahead of him and huffed impatiently. "Every bloody _time_!" John heard her mutter, "Come on Strax! It's not like he blew hole in the ceiling!" She complained.

"For your information, insolent BOY, these floors were mopped not an hour ago. I will not have some _girl_ ruining the tile finishing!"

Rose looked like she was giving herself a mental face palm. John stayed completely still. The man before him came up only to John's waist, but he held out a frying pan in an extremely threatening way. He wore a stocky black suit and had a body to match. Idly, John noticed the man sported just three fingers on both of his hands.

Glancing at Rose, John felt reassured that the strange butler/doorman meant no harm. If Rose wasn't scared of him, neither was John.

The man called Strax suddenly turned his attention to John and sniffed him, "You are new here, girl, so you shall live this once- but do not dare to cross me again!"

Repressing a smile, John nodded seriously, "That is very kind of you, sir."

And with that, Rose grabbed John's arm and pulled him through the high ceiling-ed room. "I don't know why Vastra won't hire a decent butler…" she muttered.

"Why'd he call me a-"

"Don't take any offence, John. He's short sighted- always mixing up people's genders."

"Oh. I guess that's alright then…"

Two staircases curled upward to the second floor, and Rose led John there.  
The floor switched from tile to red carpet. It was the sort one might find in a fancy hotel. Kids raced by, late to their classes.  
Yet again, John wondered how he managed to wriggle into such a prestigious school... It was not the first time he wondered this, and it would not be the last.

**_AN: What do you think? Review, Follow, Favorite!_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Spectacular Tomorrow

"So where are you taking me?" John asked after a few minutes of walking in silence, realizing he didn't know.

"Principle Vastra will want to see you. She always talks to the new students individually."

John nodded, "Right. The blue dude at the gate said she would."

Glancing back at him, Rose smiled in amusement, "Oh, that's Dorium. He didn't pick you pockets, did he? He's a bit of kleptomaniac."

"A klepto- what?"

"A compulsive thief."

"Oh." John checked his pockets, which were empty anyways. Everything he had was in his backpack.

As they wound through the halls, they passed a few open doors. There were classes in progress- Anger Management, Humanoid Hydraulics, Art. Even the normal sounding classes were strange when John peeked in. The anger management students, ten feet tall of more, were busy slapping rubber dummies, and/ or, being slapped _by_ the rubber dummies. In Humanoid Hydraulics, the students hovered several inches from the floor, meditative and totally silent. The art class was being conducted by a man with at least twenty arms.

John's jaw looked like it would stay in a dropped position permanently. Rose frowned at him, "You alright?" she smiled sympathetically, "It's a lot to take in all at once."

Shaking his head, John tucked his hands into his pockets and bounced back and forth on his heels. "Um… yeah. A bit much…" he murmured.

_I must be hallucinating… Again…_

"Hey!" Rose waved her hand in front of John's blank face, "Here, come on. I'll get you to Vastra. She'll explain everything."

"I think I'm crazy." John murmured, letting Rose tug him along, "I mean, more than usual…"

"You're not crazy, John. If you were crazy, I wouldn't be able to see everything, right?"

"Maybe I'm making you up too."

Sighing, Rose turned a corner and stopped in front of a Victorian style door. "This is Vastra's office. I can't go in with you, but I'll wait outside if you want."

John withdrew from the girl, marveling at her kindness. It was pink and yellow. "Th-thanks." He stuttered.

His footsteps made little noise as he approached the door. Gulping, John looked back at Rose pleadingly, but she just nudged him forward with her eyes. "Go on. She's not going to bite- well… actuall-" at John's expression, she quickly changed her words, "Yeah, she won't bite. Go get 'em."

Nodding firmly, John faced the cherry wood. It was so clean he could see his reflection. John saw the nervousness in his eyes. Sighing, he closed his eyes and then opened them again. No stopping now…

Thinking back, If John never stepped through that door, if he had changed his mind and run off, well, there would not be a story to tell.

But of course, he knocked.

Immediately, the door strung open on well-oiled hinges. "Come in!" a female voice ordered. "Close the door behind you!"

Dreading every step, John came forward.

Upon treading into the room, he was immediately blasted with humidity. Plants hung in every area available. Trees were on the floor, and other tropical plants hung in woven baskets. Surprisingly, a cloud hung in the air, obscuring the ceiling from view. The carpet had originally been red, but it was littered with leaves and bits of grass, and was no longer visible. Throughout the room, shafts of sunlight stabbed the air, creating a dappled, twilight feel to the area.

"Do you like it?" a voice murmured.

John spun around. He was so engrossed in the scenery that he failed to notice the woman sitting in a woven chair, behind a glass desk.

She leaned back, her hands crossed in her lap. The woman wore a black dress and a veil covered her face. Honestly, John didn't understand how she wasn't sweltering in this heat.

"Um... yeah." John said, in answer to her question, "It's a bit hot, though."

The woman smiled from under her veil, "Yes. It is. I like it that way." Leaning forward, she withdrew a file from a glass drawer.

John frowned in bafflement. The desk was glass, see-through, but he couldn't see _inside_ of the drawers. The file seemed to appear out of thin air. "Oh did-"

"John Smith, I presume?" the woman interrupted, "Sit down. I am Principle Vastra and you will address me as such. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes _what_?"

John frowned, "Yes… Principle Vastra?"

Vastra smiled, nodding her head, "Good boy. You'll catch on fast. Now…" she flipped through some pages which John assumed was his file. "How do you like my school, John?"  
"It's a bit…"  
"Insane? Impossible?" Vastra supplied, amusement in her voice. She slapped the file down, making John jump. "First of all, I want you to know, John, that this is not a hallucination." She withdrew her veil from her face and stared at him without expression.

John was sinking into a chair, but now his legs gave out and he plopped down in shock and disbelief. She was green, with scales instead of skin, yet despite it, she managed to hold an air of elegance.

"Oh my…"

_How can this _not_ be a hallucination? _

John laughed without humor, "This is _crazy_! Just down the hall there's a kid shooting bullets _out of his mouth_! And you- you're-"

"I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time." Vastra finished for him, enjoying his baffled eyes.

"Last time I checked that's imposs-"

"Last time you checked," Vastra interrupted, "You lived within a very confined worldview that the government has put in place. Did you really think that the impossible was really impossible?"

John said nothing.

Vastra chuckled, "Of course you did. But that's not the point. The point is that there is much more to the universe than you ever knew and you are one of the lucky few who get to experience it."

John was still incredulous, but he didn't protest. He could feel the honesty coming off of her like yellow sunlight. She wasn't lying, at least, that's what his 'perceptions' told him. "Okay…" John murmured, "Say for a moment I believe you, then why me? What's so special about me? Why do _I_ get to 'experience it'?"

The lizard woman nodded, like she was expecting this question. "Yes. Well let's see." She glanced down at John's file, flicking through it. "You have a history of Psychosis- specifically Schizophrenia, all which is rather normal with my students." She read for a moment, "Four psychiatrists, _really_?"

John blushed, "Yeah, well. I kept biting them."

"And why _ever_ did you do that?" The Principle murmured, "I'm not judging you, psychiatrists have a very unique taste, hard to find anywhere else. I'm just curious."

Looking at the floor, John shrugged, "They kept telling me what I saw wasn't real."

"Of course they did. But do you know what, John?" her voice was soft now.

"What?"

"Just because something isn't seen, doesn't mean it isn't there." Slowly, Vastra replaced the file into her glass drawer. "See?" she murmured when it disappeared. "You can't see it, but's still there. You don't see what's not there, you see what everyone else misses."

John closed up now. What she was saying was too much. He'd lived all of his life with the condemnation that he was insane. Now she was telling him… he _wasn't_?

It was too much- too much to take in all at once. "You're wrong." He whispered quietly. "It's not real. What I see is just an illusion- a figment of my imagination- a _disease_."

He watched her disappointment drip onto the table- grey, watered-down ink. Quickly, John looked away. Vastra sighed, "You'll come to believe me with time, John. Right now you don't have to think about it, but we will broach with subject again sometime soon."

Nodding, John slumped in his chair and waited for her to dismiss him.

She didn't.

Instead she leaned back, crossed her hands on her lap and stared at him in total silence for several seconds. "Now." she murmured, "There is something else we need to talk about. Something not even your psychiatrists know about."

No.

She couldn't know. She couldn't _possibly_.

"What _number_ are you right now, John?"

_No way._

John stiffened, shifting in his chair uncomfortably, "How- how can-"

Vastra rolled her eyes. A fly flew by her head and her tongue jumped out and lapped it up. John was too shocked to be grossed out. "Oh John, I work for the government. I know everything." Her eyebrows rose, "Well?"

John gulped. Sara never told anyone, he was sure of it. No one but the two of them knew about those strange dark nights when he hid under his blankets. No one knew about the pain in his chest as invisible fire consumed him and he woke up hours later without any knowledge of what transpired. Anything that held his reflection would be crushed, blood from his fists on the sharp edges, but no cuts on his hands.

Only Sara Jane- his mother- knew. She kept him safe on those nights, kept him hidden. And now this- this _lizard_ thought she knew _everything_. John gulped. No going back now.

"I'm not a _number_, Principle Vastra." John spoke, his voice quiet. "I'm just me."

She nodded, her sympathy baby-blue. "Of course." She wasn't as flippant now. John figured she'd seen the terror in his eyes.

She leaned forward, her gloved hand on his. "I need you to trust me, John. I want to help, do you understand?"

How many times had he heard that? John lost count. "I understand." He choked.

Then Vastra leaned back, all business again. She let John compose himself before asking her next question. "Now, I need you to tell me. How many numbers are there?"

That's how he thought of them- of these strange episodes. Some episodes felt different, unique, its own. Each type of episode had a number. John bit his lip, "One through twelve." He bit out.

Vastra was silent, processing this information. Slowly, curiosity got the better of him, and John looked up from the ground. He expected Vastra to pitying, condescending.

But she wasn't. She was kind and fascinated. "How unusual…" she murmured. "If I was I psychiatrist, I would diagnose you with a multiple personality disorder-"

John knew that. Sara had looked up the symptoms on the internet and that was the closest diagnosis she could come up with.

"But-" Vastra continued, hanging the word up to dry, "I doubt you're that mundane, John Smith." She smirked kindly, "John Smith, such an ordinary name, for such an extraordinary boy…"

John blinked. What did she know about him that he didn't? Suddenly he dying to know. What exactly _were_ the episodes? Why did they happen, and why couldn't he remember what happened for hours, even _days_ after? He opened his mouth to ask, but was hushed by a gloved finger. "Thank you for coming to my school, John. I hope we can benefit you in every way. We will talk again later."

"But-"

"Go on. You're already reeling under all that I've told you, I can tell. Now shoo! I've got things to do." She reached under her desk and pulled out a piece of laminated paper. "This is your class schedule. You will follow it to the dot. Tardiness is not tolerated."

John took it from her, not looking at it, and just like that, Principle Vastra dismissed him.

Realizing it was impossible to get any more answers out of her, John slowly stood up and walked across the room. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at the principle. "I don't know if you're right about my hallucinations, but…"

"But?"

John bit his lip and turned away. _But I hope you are._ "Never mind." He said instead.

Then John turned the doorknob and exited the office.

He couldn't see, but Vastra looked up as he left. She smiled. No doubt about it, that boy was going to be spectacular someday…

* * *

_**AN: Wow. I did not think this many people would read this. Thank you for going through with it! So my plan originally was for this to be an X-Men/Doctor Who crossover, but I don't know enough about X-men to do that, and I really just like the idea of a school with a bunch of 'strange' children. So if you see similarity, that's why. Review, Follow, Favorite! It makes me SO happy!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A Telescope Full of Stars

"Okay…" John muttered, looking at his door. Up and down the boy dorm hall, a variety of exotic doors marked the walls. He glanced at his class schedule, which also mentioned his dorm room number.

**_Room Ten_**

**_John Smith_**

It stated the words in swirling, gold lettering, backed against an oddly blue door with white squares toward the top. The edge of the door was dark, like something exploded within and the soot seeped through the cracks. John liked the color. It was the color he often associated with loneliness, but it was also soothing and gave him a sense of reassurance, the way a policeman's coat does.

Now. If he could find the doorknob…

Feeling slightly idiotic, John pushed the door, hoping it opened inward. No luck.

"Bloody h-"

"You've gotta scan your finger." A voice spoke helpfully.

John swiveled around, feeling totally humiliated. "Right. Of course."

The boy who'd spoken smiled. "Don't tell anyone, but I did exactly the same thing when I first got here."

The boy was skinny and held himself awkwardly, like he wasn't sure whether he was supposed to talk or not. Dirty-blonde fell into bright blue eyes and he had a large Adam's apple that bounced when he spoke. He wore a checkered dress shirt and a sleeveless jacket that looked like it came right out of _Back to the Future_. "I'm Rory, by the way." The boy said. He held out a hand and then put it back to his side like he wasn't sure whether that was the proper thing to do.

John nodded slowly, "Yeah, uh, hi. I'm John."

"I know." Rory said immediately, and then after seeing John confused expression, pointed at John's door. "Your name- on the door."

John glanced at the door and then back at Rory. "Right. Of course."

They stood in the hall awkwardly for a moment, and then John turned toward the door. "So I just-" he put his left thumb on the door, "And it scans it?"

Rory laughed lightly, "Ah- no. Not exactly." He stepped forward and moved John's other hand to a blank space on the wall to the right of the door. "Left handed?" he asked.

John nodded, pressing his right thumb against the wall. A blue light appeared and quickly scanned his finger. A lighthearted 'bing' sounded, and the door cracked open. John blinked. "Wow. I didn't know this technology existed in real life."

Rory agreed, "It's all a bit weird at first, but you'll get used to it. I arrived at the beginning of this year."

"About a two months ago then?"

"Yeah."

John nodded, poking his now unlocked door. He smiled at Rory, "Well it was nice meeting you, Rory." He stuck out his hand and Rory shook it.

"You too, John. See ya around?"

'_I wonder what's special about him…'_

John shook the voice away. He didn't have time to be delusional, especially right now when he didn't have a single friend.

Frowning in concern, Rory released John's hand. "Hey, you alright?"

Shaking the webbing of the voice away. John nodded. "Yeah. Fine. Sorry."

Rory nodded slowly "Do you do that a lot?" he asked, hands in his pockets.

John's brow furrowed. "Do what?"

_Great_.

He just ruined a chance to make a friend by weirding him out within the first five seconds... John honestly could say he'd never had a friend before. Everyone ran when they realized he was crazy… John sighed inwardly.

"You totally blanked out for like, three seconds or so."

_Don't hid who you are, John. If they don't like you as you, then they aren't real friends._ Sara's voice whispered in his head.

She was right, of course. No point in lying.

"Ah, yeah. I do that. Not sure why."

He waited for a condemning glance from the boy, but it didn't come. Instead Rory just nodded. "Eh, I've seen stranger things." He smiled. "Shoot, I've _been_ stranger things."

John wasn't sure what that meant, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. "Well," he pointed into his dorm. "I better get unpacked. The schedule says dinner is at six."

Nodding quickly, Rory back up toward his door, which was across the hall and a few doors to the right. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Go right ahead."

With a quick smile John started to slip into his room when he saw the color of hesitation make marks in the carpet after Rory. John paused, waiting at the door.

Sure enough, a moment before Rory entered his dorm, he turned back. "Hey, talking about dinner,"

"Yeah?"

"Well, my friends and I always sit together…"

John wondered where this was going.

"You can," Rory continued, "You know, sit with us if you want." Rory looked nervous, like was afraid John would say no.

John felt warmth fill his chest. Smiling widely, he nodded. "That'd be great!"

"Really?"

"Of course!" John chuckled, "Otherwise I'll have to sit by myself like a loser."

Rory grinned. "Cool! I'll see you then, then?"

"Yeah."

And with that, John slipped into his room feeling like a million bucks.

However, the moment he looked around the dorm, every thought about dinner escaped him. His blue backpack slipped from his shoulders and thudded on the floor. "Oh man, no _way_!"

He breathed.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and he stood grinning like an idiot, surveying the dorm.

The room was a cascade of different shades of blue and grey, going from the lonely dark color, to greyish-blue tears, to baby-blue happiness and carefree laughter. John laughed right along with the colors, spinning in a circle. He picked up the backpack and threw it onto the bed, which was circular and as expected- blue with grey pillows.

The ground was made up of large metal panels that were cool against bare feet, and the walls stretched up, not blue but a waving, ridged steel. The bumps reminded him of the inside of cardboard when was split open on the inside. There was a stainless steel desk and a sky-blue lamp on top. A spinning chair sat in the middle of the floor, to be used at the desk, and a blue dresser sat in the corner.

The room itself wasn't overly large, as far as length and width, but it was at least twice as tall as a usual bedroom. In the corner, a stainless steel, spiraling staircase led up to a small loft where there was a large beanbag, a bookcase, and to John's delight, a telescope. He let out a shout and raced up the stairs. The bookcase was empty except for a single book on mechanics and engineering.

John gaped. "How did they know?" he murmured. How could they know how much he loved to build?

_What do you want to be when you grow up, John?_

_I'm gonna be a maker._

_A what?_

_A maker. I'm gonna make stuff that's all new!_

_Oh! You mean an inventor!_

John smiled at the memory and flipped through the book. Some of it was simple, stuff he'd figured out on his own with Sara Jane's rather unhelpful help, and other stuff was beyond him. He'd been homeschooled for as long as he could remember, which basically meant Sara taught him what she could and gave him textbooks for anything she didn't know.

_You could go anywhere, do you know that? With your grades, you could get into anything._

_Just because I'm smarter than other kids doesn't fix me._

_Oh John! Don't say that! You don't need to be fixed!_

_Yes I do._

John remembered that conversation went downhill from there. Maybe that was why he liked fixing things. He wanted to be fixed, but if he couldn't do that, then he'd settle for fixing everything else. This included the broken microwave, refrigerator, air conditioning, and anything else he could get his hands on throughout the years.

Sighing, John pushed his melancholy thoughts away. He didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, John wanted to enjoy his new room and forget his problems.

John took a deep breath and reached for the telescope. Here was another one of his favorite pastimes- stargazing. He could chart just about star above his house without even trying.

Studying came easy to him, and he often memorized the star charts from distant lands. He remembered being about ten or so and talking to himself.

_If I'm not an inventor, I'll be an explorer. I'll build a super cool boat and go sail off somewhere no one has ever been before._

John grinned, looking through the telescope. Shame he was inside, the stars painted on the ceiling in no way compared to the real thing.

However, the moment he stuck his eye against the telescope and aimed it at the ceiling, he could see stars- real stars. John withdrew quickly. "What?" he murmured, placing his gaze against the telescope again.

There they were. All the stars were painted when he looked at it normally, but the moment he looked through the telescope, the ceiling transformed into a brilliant night sky like nothing he'd ever seen.

How did that work? John smiled. "That's so cool!" He breathed.

Excitement in his breath, John slip down the railing of the spiral staircase, and landed lightly on the floor.

He crossed the dorm and unzipped his backpack. Taking out his clothes, and other little knickknacks he couldn't live without, John placed the clothes in the empty dresser. He hadn't packed much just in case he decided not to stay. A few rusty gears, he placed on the desk, and a windup dog he constructed, he put next to it. Then John took out of picture of him and Sara Jane laughing as they danced in the rain. They were a vibrant yellow, which John knew was happiness. It was his favorite photo. Smiling gently, John set it carefully on the bedside table so he could see it when he woke up in the morning.

However, as he set the picture down, he froze. _It's almost six._

John frowned. That was weird. He glanced at his self-constructed wristwatch and saw that his thought had been correct.

_How strange… an inner clock? Interesting…_

But he didn't have time to think about that, because if it _was_ almost six, then he needed to run! He wanted to get to the dining room on time.

Snatching up a brochure he picked up on his way to the dorms, John glanced at the map within. Right. If he ran all the way, he could get there on time. He jumped forward, realized his shoelace was untied, tied it, and then rushed out of the room in a whirlwind.

_Into battle._

**_AN: So what do you think of John's room? I had a lot of fun coming up with that:) Anyway, review, favorite, and/or follow. Thanks for reading!_**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dinner with Friends

John only got lost twice… or maybe three times was more realistic. It wasn't his fault the hall went in circles!

That girl Rose was right! It was like the university _wanted_ him to be lost!

He recalled Rose's face as he jogged through the halls, and he wondered if he'd see her again. She was kind, even if she looked untouchable, and she had kept her word, waiting until he came out of Vastra's office earlier that day. She walked him to the boy dorms and then waved goodbye when she couldn't go any farther.

_Bye, John._

_Yeah…Thanks. See ya. _

John was thoroughly out of breath by the time he reached the open doors of the cafeteria. It looked just like every other cafeteria, except that a large fireplace roared in one end of the room, and the other half was a bit like a walk-in freezer. He found out later that this was to accommodate children who required a certain temperature in order to function. Blinking in confusion, John entered the room hesitantly. Glancing around, he attempted the locate Rory among the crowds of unusual children. He found a girl with foldable batwings, a boy with green skin and spikes on the top of his head like a cactus, but no Rory.

Then he heard his name. "JOHN!" a voice called.

And then another, "Hey, John! Over here!"

It was Rory and Rose. They sat at a table toward the center of the room, where the temperature was less drastic. Rose waved him over and with a blush, John's sneakers scooted across the floor toward the full table.

Rory smiled at him. He sat next to a red haired girl who eyed him curiously. Quickly, Rory pulled up a chair for him. "John, _there_ you are."

"I got lost." He answered sheepishly.

Rose laughed, "Even with the map?"

"Yeah… it wasn't cooperating."

The red-head next to Rory laughed, it was a tinkling bell that was pleasant to listen to. "We all get lost at first. I think it's Vastra's personal joke to make the maps all wrong."

"Seriously?" John was incredulous.

Rose nodded, "I'm not sure, but every time I use a map, I get hopelessly turned around." She sat across the circular table, leaning against the wood. Still wearing her gloves, she picked at her hamburger. "Oh, there's food over there." She said, noticing him eyeing her food. She pointed at an assembly line across the room and John nodded.

Getting up, he crossed the room, tossing a 'thanks' over his shoulder. Quickly, John grabbed a hamburger and a can of soda.

He sat back down at the table and inspected the other occupants. There was the red-haired Scott next to Rory, Rose, Rory, and a mischievous boy with black, slicked up hair and a dangerous smile.

Rory glanced at John, who was devouring his hamburger like he'd never had one before. "So John," he coughed, "Let me introduce you." He pointed at each table occupant as he said their name and they waved at him. "That's Martha." He pointed at the dark skinned girl, "This is Amy." He spoke about the girl next to him, "You know me and Rose." He pointed at another red head. She look slightly older and fuller than Amy, with a streak of sass, "This is Donna, and _that_ idiot over there is 'Captain' Jack." Rory waved his hands vaguely, "Everyone? This is John Smith."

Jack flashed John a smile. "Hey."

Amy groaned, her long hair falling into a puddle around her, "Good grief, Jack, give it up for once!"

Frowning, John glanced in confusion at Amy and back at Jack. What'd he miss?

Rory leaned in and whispered into John's ear as Amy and Jack fell into a heated argument. "Jack is cool and all… but he's about as straight as an S, ya know?"

Realization dawned on John. He gulped, understanding Jacks suggestive glance. "Oh."

John was saved from trying to come up with a better reply, for at that moment, someone tapped on a microphone at the front of the room.

Saved by the bell… or a lizard woman from the dawn of time. Whatever.

"Excuse me?" Principle Vastra spoke, her voice loud in the room. When no one responded, she tried again, "_EXCUSE_ ME! _QUIET_!"

Immediately the room hushed.

Vastra smiled, and John could see her white teeth from across the room. "Thank you. Now. I have some announcements to make." She surveyed her students, "Firstly, I can say that everyone is doing exceptionally well so far this year."

Everyone cheered.

Vastra nodded, waiting for the room to quiet again, "_However_," she extended the word. "We need to be _better_ than good if the enemy attacks- We need to be _perfect_. So." Vastra paused, "Everyone will begin extra physical training tomorrow morning."

There was a disgruntled moan from the crowd.

"Some of you may be able to recite the dictionary forwards and backwards- but that will do you no good if you don't know how to defend yourself during an attack." Vastra nodded and sat back down.

_You could always throw the dictionary_… John thought rebelliously, but he kept quiet. What enemy?

"What-" he began, but Rory hushed him.

"There's someone out there," Rory whispered, as the room slowly grew loud once more. "They're targeting people like us, recruiting them, or if they refuse…"

"What then?"

Rory shrugged, "They just disappear- like they never existed."

Shivering, John leaned back in his chair, "That's horrible."

Rose glanced at John and nodded, "Now that I think about it- that's probably the reason Vastra pulled you in the middle of the school year. The enemy is growing stronger. They're getting to students with large signatures before Vastra can."

John shook his head in confusion, "Large signatures?"

"There are machines that can detect kids with anomalies like us." Amy said, "The stronger, _stranger_, your ability, the more likely you will appear on the machine."

John nodded slowly. That made sense.

"Halfway through the semester…" Jack mused, "You must have a pretty large signature for Vastra to pick you up now." He leaned back in his chair, curious. His question was obvious but unspoken.

What makes you so special?

Snorting, John put his hamburger down. "I doubt it. I don't have any impossible… anomalies."

Amy laughed like he was hilarious. "Oh good one, John." Her smile faded when she saw he was serious. "Wait." She frowned, "You're joking, right?"

Biting his lip, John shrugged, "No…" he paused, debating whether to say anything else. "I mean, I'm slightly psychotic but I doubt that counts as an ability."

Rory laughed, "Shoot. We're all slightly psychotic in one way or another."

"Well… I say _slightly_." John cringed inwardly, waiting for the students to give him a suspicious glance.

They didn't.

"Psychosis…" Amy murmured, head in her hands. Her eyes held no malice. "What _is _that exactly?"

John mulled the question over in his mind, wondering how to best explain it. He shrugged, "I see and hear stuff that isn't real."  
Rory nodded, "I thought that was schizophrenia…"

"Ah…" John ran a hand through his hair, "It is. Psychosis is a general term for a bunch of mental… issues."

Rose was silent for several seconds, but now she spoke, "You'd be surprised how many kids thought they were schizophrenic before coming here. Turns out they just have an anomaly."

John sighed to himself. _Right. With my luck, I'm one of the few who actually are crazy..._

Amy and Jack nodded, "I thought I was delusional for years!" Amy smiled gently. "Turns out my 'visions' were just me peeking into other peoples' forgotten memories."

Intrigued, John leaned forward, "You see memories?" he wanted to get the spotlight off of himself.

"Only ones the person can't remember themselves." Amy answered flippantly, throwing her head over her shoulder and leaning against Rory. "It was very confusing to my aunt when I spouted off information from when she was a little kid…"

John blinked, wondering absently whether Rory and Amy were... together… "That's so cool!" he laughed. Could she see some of his memories? Preferably any from before arriving at Sara Jane's front door? He'd have to ask her sometime…

Flattered by his complement, Amy grinned, "It's not really, but thanks anyway."

Rory scoffed, "Yeah _right_! You are _totally_ cool!"

Rolling her eyes, Amy punched Rory's arm, "Oh shut up, Roranicus."

John noted the inside joke and filed it away. He'd figure out what she meant later.

Dinner was almost over, and most of the students had cleared out. With a yawn, Jack stood up, "I have like, twelve pages of math homework to do, so I'm gonna go."

Rose snorted, "Like you _ever_ do homework!"

Jack ignored her and winked at John, then he winked at Amy, "See ya, John. Hope you figure yourself out.." And with that, Jack vaulted over a chair and jogged off.

They watched him go for a moment before Rose stood up and grabbed her book bag from the back of her chair. "I should probably go too." She smiled at John, which against his will, made his cheeks heat up.

'_How unusual, to not know what he is… Of course, he could be lying.'_

John blinked, shaking away the voice. Really. This was getting ridiculous. _Slightly psychotic… That's an understatement…_

"Alright." He answered, watching Rose walk away, her black jean bag bouncing lightly against her hip with every step.

_Dang she's something..._

Rose turned around the corner and the room seemed to dim just slightly.

"You know she's got a boyfriend, right?" Amy blurted, a mischievous smile in the curve of her lip. "His name's Mickey. Never met him, but Rose says he's some sort of mechanic from the outside."

John started, swiveling around just slightly too fast. "Really? That's cool..." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Apparently he was unsuccessful, because Rory gave him a sympathetic glance, "Don't sweat it, John. Everyone looks at Rose at one point or another."

"I wasn't _looking _at her!"

Snorting, Amy stood up and deposited her tray in a waste basket, "I could see your _eyes_, John." she took two fingers and pointed at her eyes and then at John's. "Right at her."

John huffed indignantly, "But I wasn't looking at her like _that_."

Rory laughed, "Whatever, dude." he stood up and John followed suit. "I'm gonna study in the gardens tonight." he said, pulling a red backpack onto his shoulder, "You can come with me if you like." he threw his food into the waste basket, and yawned. "We can look over your schedule- make sure you know where to go and stuff.."

John nodded, smiling. "Sounds great."

Amy meanwhile, pulled her hair into a ponytail and heaved out a breath of exhaustion. "Physical training was _impossible _today. I think I'll leave you guys to it."

Nodding, Rory locked eyes with her. "See you tomorrow, Amy."

"Yeah." She yawned and wrapped Rory in a warm hug before walking off. "It was nice meeting you, John!"

"You too!" John called back.

And then it was just John and Rory, alone in the dining hall.

"Well then…" Rory murmured, "Shall we?"


	5. Abstract Painting

Chapter Five

Abstract Painting

The twilight wind ruffled John's stubbornly stuck up hair and whispered through the trees lining the pathway. Murmuring quietly, stone cherubs spit water into a water basin, and birds hushed their young ones. The sky stretched, blue elastic, over the horizon, and John's feet tapped quietly across the stone path.

In a word, it was peaceful- the most peaceful scene John had ever seen. Massive trees stretched upward, their arms embracing the sky. Their leaves fell silently, littering the ground with gold and red droplets of color.

Amid all this beauty, couples were found kissing, the occasional student studying, and friends murmuring quietly. Rory and John's footsteps fell on the well-beaten path, hands at their sides.

"So…" John murmured, "You and Amy then?"

Rory's head jerked up from his feet, "Hum?" he scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Oh, no. We're- we're just friends…" He said it lightly, like it didn't matter, but longing and disappointment, the color of dust and sand, leaked from his eyes.

Nodding slowly, John waited for Rory to continue.

"I mean- I've known her for forever and she's great- really great."

"But?"

Rory shrugged, "She wants to be friends, and if that makes her happy, then that's what I'll be."

John blinked. That was probably the most selfless thing he'd ever heard.

Smiling sadly, Rory dismissed the subject and pointed at a large tree with lush grass beneath it. "Let's stop here."

"Alright."  
John lowered himself down into the grass, enjoying the sight of fireflies around him. "It's beautiful here." he murmured.

With a smile, Rory agreed. He patted the tree next to him, "It is, isn't it? I always stop here."

John glanced at him, "Why?"

Rory thought for a moment, leaning against the rough bark of the oak tree. "I like the way the light falls in between the leaves and how the fountain is a sort of white-noise factor. If I climb to the top of the tree, I can see the whole university at once. It's amazing." Rory was silent for a moment, unpacking his backpack, "Course, I've only been up there once- Amy convinced me."

"Not a fan of heights?" John offered, leaning back. He felt the dirt under his hands, cold, dew-covered and soft.

Rory shook his head, almost looking embarrassed, "You could say so."

Nodding in understanding, John took his schedule out of his pocket, "Yeah, me neither." He often had dreams of falling to his death and they terrified him. Then John would wake up, but the fear never went away.

"That your schedule?" Rory asked, pointing at the laminated page.

John nodded, shaking away the depressing thought and handing the paper to Rory.

Rory's eyes ran across it, mild interest on his face. The schedule looked something like this:

**Weekly Schedule:**

**7:00 AM: Math- taught by Adric**

**9:30 AM: Physical Training- taught by Strax and Jenny**

**11:00 AM: Reading/Writing- taught by Wilfred Nobel**

**12:00 AM: Lunch**

**12:45 AM: Specialized Training**

**2:00 PM: History: taught by River Song**

**3:00-5:45 PM: Free Time**

**6:00 PM: Dinner**

**9:30 PM: Bedtime**

Rory gestured John closer and pointed at his first class. "Alright. I've heard about Adric. He's…"

"He's what?"

Shrugging, Rory leaned against the tree, "For one, he looks fifteen, but he's much older than that. He's a math genius, but he doesn't quite understand the finer points of socializing, ya know what I mean?"

John thought about that for a moment, "Yeah. I get that."

And he honestly did. John was a bit of a genius himself, and socializing had never come easy growing up in his isolated state with only Sara to talk to.

Rory pointed at the next class, "Rose said you already met Strax. He's pretty cool, not the smartest potato, but brains aren't needed in his line of work."

"And Jenny?"

"Jenny is the most hardcore maid I have ever met." Rory laughed, "She's got crazy fighting skills." he paused conspiratorially, "there's a rumor going around about her relationship with Vastra being more than just professional, but-" he shrugged, "No one has any evidence."

Nodding, John pointed at a name that caught his eye, "River Song? That's an odd name…"

"Yeah," Rory nodded, "And there's an odd woman to go with it." Smiling, the sandy-haired boy seemed to sink into a memory for a moment, "She can tell the future, so I find it sort of strange that she would dig into the past so intensely."

"Well, if she sees the future, then maybe she's tired of it," John mused, "Like, maybe she's exhausted by all of this indefinite knowledge. It's probably grounding to know something that can't be shifted- changed."

Blinking, Rory sat up. "You should be a psychiatrist, John. You've got a unique view of people."

John laughed, dismissing the subject. "I've been around shrinks a bit." Then he pointed at 'Specialized Training' on the paper. "What's that mean?"

"Oh," Rory waved dismissively, "It depends on your anomaly. Everyone either joins a class with abilities similar to their own or has individual training."

John nodded, wondering how to phrase his next question. He started slowly, "So… what do you do?"

"In Specialized Training?"

"Yeah."

Smiling in embarrassment, Rory chuckled, "I'm learning Latin."

John blinked, "Uh, _why_?" then he realized that might come off as rude. "I mean, Latin is cool and all but-"

"No, no. I get you." Rory smiled, "I'm learning it because occasionally I'll touch people and they start speaking Latin instead of English. Vastra thought it would be a good idea if _I _at least knew what they were saying..."

"Seriously?" John grinned, "How's that even work?"

"I have no idea." Rory laughed, "But the side effect is I turn into a Roman."

Now John was confused, "Wait- _what_?"

"Full on Roman- with a bunch of Romany stuff in my head." he paused with a smirk, pointing at his head, "When I was little I was totally convinced my name was Roranicus Williumus." Rory shrugged, "I've been training, and I don't forget who I am any more, but the desire to wear a battle skirt and rush into war tends to linger."

"Falling stars, Rory!" John collapsed into laughter along with Rory, "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Laughing, Rory couldn't respond for a few seconds, "I _know_!"

The two boys snorted for several minutes and then lay panting, "Dang." John murmured, "I've never laughed that hard in my entire life- I swear."

"Oh shut up." Rory answered without malice. He yawned and sat up again.

Back to business.

"Tomorrow you'll be tested, ya know, to see what your abilities are," he said.

John frowned, "But I don't have any abilities."

"Oh don't give me that," Rory rolled his eyes, "Modesty is always appreciated, but seriously, you expect me to believe Vastra pulled you for no reason?"

John shrugged, "I already told you. I'm schizophrenic, but I don't have any weird abilities."

Rory leaned back and crossed his arms. "I don't believe you."

"It's not like I'm _lying_!" John knew he couldn't tell a lie worth anything. Every emotion could be read in his eyes clearly.

Huffing, Rory got to his feet and paced, "Alright. If you're not lying, then that means you're just unaware."

"I'm pretty sure I would know if-"

"Not necessarily." Rory interrupted. "So that means we've got to figure it out." Suddenly he paused, turned, and sat back down. "Schizophrenia, you said?"

"Yeah."

Nodding, Rory bit his lip, "Tell me about it."

John frowned. What sort of question was that? "Um-"

"Like- what do you see that supposedly isn't there?"

How unusual. Most of the time if someone wanted to know about his hallucinations, it was so they could make them stop, or so they had something to make fun of him with. However, here was this boy who wanted to know what he saw because he wanted to help John personally.

John scratched his neck, considering how much to tell him. Then he let his eyes land on Rory and watch yellow honestly sparkle around him. Rory would do nothing to hurt him- at least, not on purpose.

"Alright." John said, pulling up his knees_. Might as well get this over with. _"I hear voices when no one is speaking." he murmured, "And I see colors."

"Okay…" Rory nodded, "So does everyone else."

John rolled his eyes, "Not just normal colors. It's like... " How did he explain this? He sighed, putting his hands forward. "Think of an abstract painting."

"Alright."

"Good. So in an abstract painting, the people aren't the way they're suppose to be, right?"

"I guess."

"They might have dark, bluish skin or hair. They might be a light color like yellow, or an angry color like red." John paused, "That's how I see people. I walk around and each person is different shade of a color- it's all around them, and each color is…" John honestly had never put what he saw into such detail, and now he found it was much more difficult to do than he thought.

"It's like an emotion?" Rory finished, catching on. The last word rose in pitch and made it a question.

John hesitated, "I suppose." Excuses flew into his mind and he spit them out. "Course, I don't know how that helps me."

_They're just delusions._

Rory snorted, "I don't know… it's certainly _something_."

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Rory handed John back his schedule, "I'd say you were psychic if psychics existed."

"You're telling me you can make people speak Latin, but one one here is psychic?"

Rory shrugged and stood up. "No one functional. It's a rare anomaly as it is, and anyone with the slightest inkling that they might be psychic- truly psychic that is, is absolutely bonkers. So yeah- in that sense, it's impossible."

John thought about that for a moment. Psychic? Him? That was ridiculous, even Rory thought so. Shrugging, John stood up. "We should probably get back."

"Yeah," Rory agreed, "It's almost curfew and you've got a big day tomorrow- well actually, you have a big day everyday from now on." He smiled lightly, enticing a reluctant smirk from John. "I'll see you around, John. Don't worry, you'll figure out where you belong in no time."

John nodded and started walking back to his room, "If you say so, Roranicus." He heard a lingering sigh and then a chuckle from behind him. John smirked.

Sure he might be a delusional, schizophrenic, orphaned inventor with _some _sort of personality disorder, but… now he had a friend.


End file.
